


Under the Purple Sunset, Over the Purple Moon

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dream Sex, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 17:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	Under the Purple Sunset, Over the Purple Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fairleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/gifts).

The boy can't be more than eighteen or nineteen. Kylo ("Ben," he hears his mother's voice say in his head) isn't good with figuring out other people's ages. He's not good with other people, period. They're irritating mysteries, laughing at jokes Kylo doesn't find funny, sad about tragedies he doesn't believe are that bad. Dreams are twitchy things, full of clouds and shifting, but he thinks the boy with the sandy hair darkening into brown is about eighteen. It's important. At nineteen, he'll already be damned and lost, and he won't even know it.

All magic is old magic, Snoke taught him. Dream magic is older as the lost world that was. Here Kylo can connect with the man who delved the path of Kylo's life, of all their lives, reaching back in time to touch his mind inside of a space outside time.

"Hi," Anakin says, uncertainty and suspicion clouding his voice. "Who are you?"

("Ben," he hears again, as if she's standing beside him.) "My name is Kylo Ren. I came to speak with you."

"I haven't seen you before." The question pops like a ghost beside him, asking this stranger if he is the long-wondered-about father Anakin never met. The words fill the air and blow away on a gust of lost hopes.

Now there's a tangle Kylo never considered before: traveling further into the past, seducing the tired-faced woman from his uncle's old family holos, and getting this boy upon her. But he doesn't want the woman. Ever since he first saw the holo of the handsome youth his grandfather had been, and long before the truth came out of who else the man had become, Kylo had felt a deep stirring.

"I'm a friend. I've come a long way to see you."

"Friend" echoes between them, flapping in the mental breeze like a tattered pennant. The word ties itself up with another face Kylo saw in old holos, with smiling blue eyes and a red beard. Here in the dream, Anakin can't prevent splashover from his other shameful dreams where his body writhes in naked abandon against the other, beloved form.

He moves next to Anakin, and mouths into his ear: "You want him."

"Jedi don't want that," he says.

"I'm not a Jedi," Kylo replies, and he kisses Anakin, lets him feel the Force flow between their minds. He shows his own terrible dreams from his youth, his desire for his own master growing until it consumed them both. He hides the last pieces away. Anakin doesn't need to know Luke is his son. He doesn't need to know who Kylo ("Ben, you have to stop.") is to him, either. He only needs to know he is desired.

He is a handsome boy here in his dream, and his skin tastes of all of Kylo's favorite things as he licks and tastes and sucks. His hand is firm on Kylo, more knowledgable than a good Jedi should be how to give pleasure to another. Perhaps his fantasies aren't all pretend.

Somewhere on a First Order ship, the newly-risen Supreme Leader spoils the sheets of his bunk. That's far away. Anakin's mouth is on him, sucking him down before he bends Kylo over and fills him in a single, hard thrust, needy and desperate in his dream. It would hurt if this was real, a big cock shoved dry inside him, but dreams provide the needed slick oil greasing his way inside just as they do the decadent bed they've fallen into together.

Anakin groans as he fills him, and the dream shifts as he pulls away. His face is older, his body covered with scars and his mind slashed with rage and self-loathing. Kylo watches him, his own body still twitching with want and his mind twisting. He wanted to meet Anakin when he'd been young, and had fallen instead into a dream of Anakin's youth. The man beside him could be twenty-five or forty, and he still dreams of his lost master and of his own handsome face.

Kylo feels his cock stir and grow with desire again.

"More," he says, and the word shivers between them.

"More," says Vader in the deep voice of his vocoder, and they fall upon one another once more.


End file.
